Insatiable
by CherryCoke9733
Summary: She was the forgotten one, the feared one, the one lost to the sands of time. But she was a threat that was very, very real. *AU of TLO* *percabeth* R & R please.
1. Preface

She was beautiful.

Her long black tresses hung to her waist when down, but know she had them pinned up in a delicate arc. Her eyes were pale green, like the pine needles in spring. A warm, inviting scent always accompanied her willowy figure. She dressed in a floor length blood red chiton and a gauzy black shoulder wrap. Yes, she was beautiful.

She was vain.

She would almost always be found in one of two places. One of which was her hall of mirrors. Hundreds upon thousands of mirrors reflected her great beauty, and she would spend hours staring in rapture at herself.

She was twisted.

The second place she could always be found were her dungeons. Dark and cold and damp, she would keep her toys down here for her to play with. After a few hours of amusement, she would return to her hall of mirrors, and wash the blood off her hands in rose scented water.

She was a ghost.

Well, not technically. She was nearly never seen above her palace of bones. Her palace, you see, twisted down, not up, just like malevolence and cruelty, she lurked just below the surface. Yes, she was, in many ways, a ghost.

She was forgotten.

Lost in the sands of time, she could do whatever she wished. Her siblings knew of her, of course, but they feared her, for the forgotten have power. She was forgotten, but only because she wished to be.

She was powerful.

She was protected by her cruelty. She could do whatever she wished, for she possessed dark and terrible secrets best left untouched. She used them daily, on her toys and in her games. Her siblings could do nothing, only watch from a distance as she worked her power.

She was mad.

She would occasionally be found in the halls of the sky reaching palace, a knife in hand. She would immediately be dragged back down to her crypt, and the doors would be locked. Screams and giggling laughter would be heard for hours afterwards. She was indeed utterly mad.

She was a liar.

She would catch her prey, her new toys, just like a spider, in a web of sweetened lies. They would see nothing out of the ordinary, until it was too late.

She was ancient.

Older than her siblings by at least three thousand years, hard to tell, seeing as she was born from time himself. Time spared her, though, and let her roam free, knowing she had no capacity for tearing down his golden age. She was too engrossed in her own games. Yes, she is ancient.

And so though she bled gold, no one could tell if she were the true monster, the beautiful spider, trapping her toys in her web of lies . . . now she has a new toy in mind, a new game forming in that black, dark place of a mind. She is giggling now, knowing that this will be fun, and that no one, least of all the father, will be able to do anything about it.

I haven't told you her name yet? Well, I suppose you ought know what you are up against, because as soon as you have read this, she will know, and she intends to not let anyone with this information live. I'm taking a great risk in telling you, and nearly killed myself trying to obtain this, so I hope you appreciate my generosity.

Her name is Insatia, named for her insatiable thirst for new blood.

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**It would be nice to get reviews. . . this is my first fanfiction, and I'd like to pick up some pointers.**


	2. One

I stood in the dirt, laughing my head off as this guy from Hermes and I battled it out. He was at the very least keeping me busy. We had been fighting for ten minutes. Finally I disarmed him, and was able to go rest awhile before dinner at the pavilion. The arena was a little bit away from cabin three, so I had a walk in front of me.

I approached my cabin a few minutes later, and found a little girl in a white cotton dress sitting on my bed, swinging her legs back and forth. She couldn't be any older than five, but I swear I hadn't seen her around before. She had really dark brown hair that was held back by a pale blue bandana, and her eyes were dark brown, like black. She looked up as soon as I entered the door.

"Ummm, hello?" I managed. You would be speechless too, if five-year-old girl showed up in the cabin that only you occupied, and for some reason she sorta struck you as familiar.

"Perseus, I have been waiting for you," when she spoke, it sent shivers down my spine. It was an old, no, scratch that, _ancient_ voice that came out of her mouth, kinda like Kronos, but even older. And cold as ice.

"Uh, who are you?" she stared at me, and then comprehension flooded her face. She nodded.

"Of course you would not recognize me. I am alone, and you know me in a different form. I am Clotho, the first of the Fates," Uh oh, this could not end well. A Fate only visits you if you are about to die.

"But… but you were so old," I protested. She smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes.

"I am a goddess, older than the Olympians themselves. My sisters and I have existed since the dawn of time. I can choose my form."

I shifted my weight from my right foot to my left. "So… why are you here?" she smiled bitterly, but instead of answering, she got up and walked towards, aging with every step. By the time she stopped, she looked like a world-weary girl, at least my age. Raising an arm, she placed a hand on my forehead, and I collapsed to the floor, gasping for breath.

She had shown me a vision of the socks that her sisters still sat around. Twelve brilliant gold threads were woven into the socks, and hundreds of less brilliant threads surrounded them. The Olympians and the minor gods and goddesses. One dark bronze thread sat a little off to the side, Hades' thread. But the one that caught my attention was dark red with flecks of gold shining out. Masses of multicolored thread tangled around it, and as I watched, a sea foam green thread began to be pulled from its spot, and wind itself around the darker, more forbidding one. The two Fates weaving the socks tutted and sighed then pulled out their shears, preparing to cut the green thread.

I woke in a cold sweat. Clotho stood over me, a scowl carving her face. She was an old woman once more. I swallowed. The green thread had been my own.

"What was that?" I croaked out. Her scowl deepened, and she shook her head.

"She is the meddler of fate. It is not her place. Do not take what I have shown you lightly. Not many know that she exists. I only have shown you because she has been disrupting the fate of Heroes for millennia, and I believe that you might have what it takes to stop it.

"Beware. If you fail, your fate will be like all the rest. And you must not lose hope. My sisters and I will watch you, and help when we can. You will not be abandoned to her devices."

Clotho turned to face me again, and her face grew even older. Soon she looked like the Oracle in the Big House's attic, then she crumbled to dust, and the dust blew out the window. _Tell no one of my visit, Perseus. _

* * *

I managed to keep my cool all through dinner, though I didn't touch my food. Most of that went into the flames, and I sent a prayer to whoever could or would help me. And to be quite frank, I wasn't hungry.

I met up with Grover and Annabeth during the campfire sing along. I was hoping that they could help cool my nerves, but I was wrong. Even with them at my sides, I couldn't help but jump at even the slightest sound, expecting the bloody thread owner to jump out at me and drag me off into the depths of the woods. Finally Annabeth noted that maybe I just needed sleep. I shook my head.

"Nah, I'm fine. I'll stay," I smiled, and hoped it got to my eyes. She stared at me, then dragged me out of the firelight and down to the beach.

"Okay Seaweed Brain, something's wrong, and I want to know what," she put her hands on her hips and waited.

"I'm fine! Promise," I met her eyes, which proved to be a mistake, because I almost cracked and spilled the beans.

We just stood there for a while, staring each other down, saying nothing, until she sighed in defeat. "'Kay Seaweed Brain, but if you need to talk, you know where to find me." I smiled and nodded, then headed for cabin three, and crashed on my bed.

Dark laughter plagued my sleep.

I was in a dark corridor, and the laughter was coming from the tunnel in front of me. The laughter started to become less frequent, until it was non-existent.

"Oh, come now. Its no fun if you don't scream," an irritated female voice broke the silence. Someone whimpered in return.

The whimpering increased until it became a scream, tortured and unceasing. The laughter started up again, and it continued for hours. I couldn't back, but every instinct in my body told me to not go forward. The screaming slowly died down, and so did the mad giggling. A dark form appeared at the end of my hallway, and it waved in the direction it came.

"Until tomorrow," she said, her voice devoid of emotion. She turned to me, and braziers lit up in flame at the wave of her hand. Her eyes widened in pleasure as she saw me, and she motioned for me to walk forward. I had no choice but to obey. As I got closer I noticed her hands were stained with blood. I started to hyperventilate.

"Well, this is certainly a pleasant surprise!" her voice was friendly, but her eyes told a different story. She traced her finger along my face, and I flinched away from her touch.

"Oh come now, its no fun if you don't scream."

* * *

I woke with a silent scream on my lips. I shivered, but couldn't get the cold feeling from the dream off of my skin. I put my head in my hands. Demigod dreams were never just dreams. The thought that a girl like this existed sent shivers down my spine. She was dangerous and most likely insane. And she was probably the one Clotho had been speaking about. My first thought: Oh crap.

Because if I was going to have to face this girl, well, I don't know if I could. Every cell in my body told me to not go near her, but apparently I would have to in order for this to be over.

I could have sat there for eternity, frozen in fear, but someone appeared in my cabin door.

"Seaweed Brain, you're late for breakfast," Annabeth said. I shook my head.

"Not hungry. Could you just throw it in the fire?" I asked. I had no appetite after that dream.

"Percy, cut the crap. What. Is. Wrong. Are you sick?" huh, maybe. But I didn't say that.

"Bad dreams, that's all," I said. "Meet me at the docks?"

Annabeth sighed and pinched her nose. "Fine, but you really are a Seaweed brain, okay?"

I tried smiling again. "Sure. Whatever."


End file.
